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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903783">Penguins and Parrots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi'>SailorChibi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Powers, Avengers as family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Realism, More tags to be added, Obadiah Stane is an Asshole, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Protective Avengers, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers does not like bullies, Suspicious Clint Barton, Suspicious Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, and it freaks tony out, magic in a realistic situation, obadiah stane is a snake in the grass, steve is a flirt, steve rogers will take obadiah stane down, the house where steve lives is magical, tony's heart can't take it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:42:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is known as a crazy, rich, eccentric billionaire. Somehow, under Stane's command, Tony is going to have to swindle this man out of a lot of money and land. But Obadiah Stane didn't count on one thing: Steve's deep-seated hatred of bullies.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>611</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kind of a crack fic treated seriously is what I'm aiming for here. We'll see how successful I am!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In this day and age, handwritten letters were an oddity. Unfortunately, Tony had the feeling that this letter was only the beginning of the weird things he was going to see today. </p><p>He carefully slipped the piece of paper out of the envelope. It was creased in several places from being folded and re-folded so many times already, but it was a thicker paper than what Tony was used to. Cardstock paper, maybe, or some other kind of paper meant especially for this kind of thing. The writing was <i>beautiful</i>. Each black letter carefully and deliberately formed. Calligraphy, if Tony wasn't mistaken. He'd thought at first that it had been printed from a computer, but he could feel the impressions of the pen when he put his finger on the page.</p><p>For what was probably the tenth time, Tony scanned the page. A few key phrases leapt out at him here and there, but the letter yielded no more information than the first nine times that he'd read it. Tony sighed and sat back in his seat, looking up the street. From where he was seated, he couldn't see his destination. He'd have to drive another block, maybe two. It wouldn't be a long walk at all. </p><p>Yet that made the thought of what he was about to do no more appetizing.</p><p>His phone rang, startled him. Tony dropped the letter and scrabbled for it, swallowing when he saw who was calling. He put the phone to his ear and said, "Hello?"</p><p>"Are you there yet?" Obie's voice was thick with impatience. </p><p>"I'm - not yet," Tony said, unwilling to admit that he'd been sitting out here for about fifteen minutes. That would only make Obie angry, and he <i>really</i> didn't want to make Obie angry right now. </p><p>"Well, what are you waiting for? This is a very valued client of ours, Tony! We can't afford to have Mr. Rogers going to another law firm," Obie snapped.</p><p>Tony had to quell his first reaction, which was to point out that whenever a request from Steve Rogers arrived, Obie did whatever he possibly could to be otherwise occupied. Obie was the kind of man who preferred to be seen and heard. It had been years since he had done anything but figure out how to ruin other people's lives, and everyone who worked for him knew it. </p><p>Up until now, all of the Rogers' affairs had been handled exclusively by one of Tony's coworkers. Not because Rogers was known to be a difficult client, but because his requests were somewhat unusual and generally came out of no where by way of a handwritten letter. Not a phone call, not an email, but a <i>letter</i>. Who even did that now? Tony glanced again at the letter in his hand. This time Rogers was expressing interest in purchasing a university. A <i>university</i>. What on earth did the man plan to do with a university, of all places?</p><p>Typically Tony's co-worker got these requests and ran with them, but unfortunately, said co-worker had recently quit. That meant there was no one at the firm who was familiar with these particular accounts. Typically, Obie much preferred to have Tony working on the accounts of their female clients - Tony knew just how to charm them, and even those with a harder exterior usually melted when they heard about Peter - and Tony was usually okay with that. It put him in the position of being able to protect those female clients from the worst of what scum like Obie had to offer.</p><p>But now... this newest letter seemed to have spurred Obie into deciding that he wanted to make his move on Steve Rogers and his assets. Some of the land that Rogers owned was very valuable, and Obie was of the opinion that it was going to waste being owned by a "freak like Rogers" (Obie was, as ever, so eloquent when describing people). So he'd dispatched Tony with very clear instructions. Tony was to meet up with Rogers and do whatever it took to make Rogers sign over the deed to his most valuable land - and in the process, get as much money out of Rogers as possible before cutting all ties with him.</p><p>It was a tall order, but Obie had never cared about things like that. So here was Tony. On Obie's behalf. Ready to go in and try to steal the land of a man who had never been anything but cordial to their firm.</p><p>He closed his eyes in disgust at himself.</p><p>It took Obie's rant a few minutes to wind down. At last, he said, "You get your ass in there, Stark, and you make nice like you've never made nice before, or I'll make you regret it. If you come back here without that deed in hand, I'm going to make you sorry. We clear?"</p><p>"Yeah,"  Tony said, a chill running down his spine. He had never hated anyone as much as he hated Obadiah Stane, but so long as Peter was under Obie's thumb there wasn't a damn thing that Tony could do about it.</p><p>"Then get to it," Obie hissed, and hung up.</p><p>Tony slowly lowered his phone, sighing as it returned to the lock screen. He really didn't have a choice, did he? Someday, he was going to figure a way to get out from under Obie's thumb - but until that day came, his options were limited. He tucked his phone in his pocket and pushed the door open, glancing around as he got out of the car. Rogers lived quite far out of the city. It had taken Tony almost six hours of driving just to get here. There was nothing nearby; Rogers owned almost five hundred acres. Technically, Tony was already trespassing.</p><p>That thought made him break out into a cold sweat, and he wiped his hands on his pants as he shut the car door. All Tony's co-worker had ever said was that Steve Rogers was "eccentric". That seemed to fit, considering that no amount of googling had turned up anything even remotely helpful on the man - just some horror stories that couldn't possibly be true. Surely, Rogers didn't really keep lions around the house which he fed with the bodies of his enemies? That was beyond illegal in every sense of the word. And surely Rogers didn't hunt people down just for trespassing...</p><p>Though he probably <i>did</i> hunt them for trying to steal said land.</p><p>"I am in way over my head," he whispered to himself, realizing he'd forgotten his briefcase. He opened the car door and retrieved it, then slammed it shut. He set the briefcase down and moved around to the front of the car, popping the hood, and surveying the contents grimly.</p><p>Rogers was so far out in the country that it would probably take a mechanic a good day's drive to get here. But it was Saturday night, so no mechanic would be coming out this way until at least Monday morning. Either way, if Tony did the right amount of damage, that meant it would take a mechanic at least a day to get here, assess the situation, and then another day or two to return. Or maybe the mechanic would just come with a tow truck. That was more likely, wasn't it? So he'd have two days at the most, maybe three if he was lucky and the nearest mechanic was too busy to come immediately, to make this happen.</p><p>And that was if his luck held true and Rogers didn't have someone who knew a lot about cars hanging around. He didn't live alone, that was one thing the stories all had in common. </p><p>Just to be safe, Tony didn't just mess around with the engine. It hurt his soul a bit, but he purposely damaged a few pieces of equipment in such a way that no one could prove the damage hadn't happened during the ordinary operation of the vehicle. Then, for good measure, he took a couple of parts out and hid them in his briefcase. He wanted to make sure that it would require a mechanic to get him going again. Rogers might be good with cars, or he might have someone around who was, but it was pretty unlikely that he'd have a whole mechanic's shop back there.</p><p>That done, he knew he couldn't put it off any longer. Tony wiped his hands free of grease, added the rags to his briefcase, and locked the car through force of habit. Then he started walking. It was hot and humid, but he still walked as slowly as possible. Anything to avoid the moment when he'd have to rip another poor guy off.</p><p>But he couldn’t delay forever. In no time, Tony found himself walking alongside a fence. It was quite a tall fence - a good twenty feet high by his estimation, so there was no way to see what was on the other side. A few hundred feet further down, he found a gate. He stood outside of it for a moment, staring at it. The gate looked to be made of some kind of metal, most likely iron, but it had to have been hand carved. Various symbols had been etched right into the iron. As the sun came out from behind a cloud, he realized that some of the symbols had been painted.</p><p>"Can I help you?"</p><p>Tony jumped about a foot in the air, throwing his briefcase up. He looked around frantically as his briefcase hit the ground, half-expecting someone to have snuck up on him.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>"Can I help you?"</p><p>He kept looking, and finally spotted the small box that was attached to the side of the gate. An intercom, he realized, stooping down to pick up his briefcase with a shaking hand. He shuffled a bit closer, wondering if he was being watched. Scratch that: no need to wonder. <i>Of course</i> he was being watched. Rich billionaires who owned this much land would have some kind of system to monitor things.</p><p>Oh god, he hoped they hadn't watched him damage the car.</p><p>"Can I help you?" came for the third time. It was a pleasant voice. Young. Male. Perhaps computerized, considering that the tone and inflection hadn't changed at all.</p><p>"Uh, y-yes," Tony said. He inwardly grimaced, but outwardly pasted on a smile. "My name is Tony Stark. I'm from Stane and Stark? I'm here about the letter Mr. Rogers sent to us?" He fished the letter out of his pocket and unfolded it again, holding it up as proof.</p><p>"What is your business?" the intercom asked.</p><p>"Uh... I'm here to talk to Mr. Rogers about the letter."</p><p>"The letter clearly outlines what Mr. Rogers wants done."</p><p>Okay, now Tony was reversing his first thought. He was pretty sure he was talking to a person now.</p><p>"I, uh, know he wants to buy a university, but there's a lot more to this than I think Mr. Rogers realizes. I need more details about what kind of university he has in mind," Tony said. </p><p>"Why you?" the intercom asked.</p><p>Funny, Tony asked himself that same question literally every damn day.</p><p>But he knew what the intercom really meant, and said, "I'm sorry, I'm afraid that Ms. Carter has recently moved on from our law firm. She's working somewhere else. I've been tasked with taking over Mr. Rogers' accounts. I would have alerted you to the change sooner, but I couldn't find a phone number or an email address in Mr. Rogers' file and I thought that a letter would take too long..." That, at least, was the honest truth. Tony had scoured the files looking for any other way to contact Mr. Rogers, but he'd come up consistently blank.</p><p>There was a pause, as though the person behind the intercom was contemplating his answer, and Tony started to wonder whether he should dig out his license or maybe pull up the Stane and Stark website as proof - but then the huge gates soundlessly swung open.</p><p>"Please enter. Someone will be waiting for you on the other side," said the intercom.</p><p>"Thanks," Tony said weakly. He almost wished they'd turned him away - but he knew what would happen if they did, and so proceeded through the gate...</p><p>To where a big penguin waited.</p><p>Tony blinked.</p><p>The penguin waved at him. It was human-sized - a costume, he realized slowly - and clutching a bunch of bright red balloons in its hand. It offered Tony one of the balloons.</p><p>"Um..." he said.</p><p>More insistently, the penguin shoved the balloon at him.</p><p>"Thanks?" he said again, taking the string gingerly.</p><p>The penguin gave a satisfied nod, turned, and started to waddle away. After a moment, Tony followed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time they reached the house, Tony’s balloon had changed from red to pale blue. He eyed the balloon apprehensively, wondering how that was possible. He had never seen color-changing balloons before. Maybe the material of the balloon was reacting to a change in the air? But the walk to the house hadn’t taken more than five minutes…</p><p>“Who goes there?” </p><p>It was the same voice from the intercom. Tony swung around, startled – and stared.</p><p>The man – boy? – put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes at Tony. He couldn’t have been older than early twenties, with a hint of boyish charm still lingering in his face. But what really caught Tony’s attention was the man’s mohawk. It was at least a foot high and bright purple in color. That, and the fact that the man wasn’t wearing anything besides hot pink short shorts.</p><p>Tony blinked a couple times, speechless.</p><p>“Jane, who is this?” the man demanded.</p><p>“He’s here to see Steve,” said the penguin. “So do your job as a butler and take him the rest of the way.”</p><p>The butler sneered a bit, scratching idly at his bare chest. “I don’t know. How do we know he can be trusted?”</p><p>“His balloon is blue,” the penguin – Jane? – declared, and Tony gave his balloon a startled look. So he wasn’t going crazy and imagining things, then.</p><p>“That doesn’t mean much,” said the butler.</p><p>“Well, do you want to be the one to tell Bruce that his invention doesn’t work?” Jane said.</p><p>The butler looked briefly horrified.</p><p>“I didn’t think so,” Jane said, and if it was possible for a costumed penguin head to look smug, then it was happening right now.</p><p>“I don’t want to,” the butler said finally, scowling at Tony.</p><p>“If you don’t, I’ll give <i>you</i> a balloon,” Jane threatened.</p><p>The speed with which the butler backed off was a bit alarming; he held his hands up and quickly shook his head. “No, no! I’ll go.”</p><p>Tony looked between them, thoroughly baffled, and then cast a skeptical glance at the balloon he still held. Was it dangerous? Should he not have taken it? But the penguin – Jane – hadn’t left him much choice…</p><p>“Come on, then,” the butler said grumpily, before spinning on his heel and walking through the front door. Tony contemplated turning around and running away. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that the gates had shut behind them as they entered the grounds, so he wouldn’t be able to get out even if he tried. All he could do was press forward.</p><p>So he tentatively followed the butler inside, flinching in surprise when the door slammed shut behind him. His balloon popped at the same time. Surprised, Tony let the string go. It vanished before it hit the ground.</p><p>“How -?” he whispered, stunned.</p><p>“Come on! Hurry up!” the butler yelled, now halfway up a flight of stairs. </p><p>There was no choice but to follow. Tony quickly followed, half-expecting for the stairs to suddenly open up underneath like a trap door. He put his hand on the railing and held on tightly as he hurried up just in case, but luckily nothing happened. He made it to the top unscathed and was actually feeling a little proud of himself until he realized that the butler was gone.</p><p> “Shit,” Tony breathed, head swivelling from one direction to the other. “Uh – Mr. Butler? Where did you go?”</p><p>No answer. What was he supposed to do? Run? Go back downstairs? Wait here? </p><p>He deliberated for a couple of minutes, but in the end it was the thought of Peter that spurred him on.</p><p>Tony took several cautious steps to the right and peered around the corner. There were a bunch of closed doors, but otherwise the hall looked normal. He stepped around and hesitantly walked forward. </p><p>The sound of the first explosion made him jump.</p><p>By the time the second and third went off, Tony hit the ground. He moved close to the wall, dropping his briefcase and placing his hands over his head to protect it, heart racing in panic.</p><p>“It’s okay! I got it!” a distant voice yelled.</p><p>Evidently the voice was incorrect, as three more rapid-fire explosions literally shook the ground. </p><p>And then he heard something that made his heart stop.</p><p>A growl.</p><p>A very loud, very close growl.</p><p>“Fuck fuck fuck,” Tony cried, scrambling to his feet when a lioness sauntered around the far corner. He pressed himself to the wall, too scared to move. What was the procedure for lions? Were you supposed to play dead? No, wait. That was for bears, not lions. Should he throw his briefcase at her and run? But what if that made the lioness chase him down, like he was prey –</p><p>He almost wet himself when the lioness growled again, softer this time but with more intent. She was staring right at Tony and there was a glint in her eyes. Then she opened her mouth, like she was trying to show off several razor-sharp, powerful teeth. Helplessly, Tony squeezed his eyes shut. He had a fleeting thought of Peter and hoped that Rhodey and Pepper would look after him.</p><p>“Frigga, stop that.”</p><p>Tony’s eyes flew open. There was a giant standing in the hallway with them, suddenly.</p><p>The lioness made a quiet sound, almost a mewl, and the giant shook his head.</p><p>“No, Frigga. Go find Thor, okay?”</p><p>With what was clearly a grumble, the lioness turned around and headed back down the hall. The giant watched her go, shaking his head, then turned to Tony and came several steps closer. He smiled kindly.</p><p>“Hello there. I’m Steve. I understand you were looking for me.”</p><p>“H-Hi,”  Tony breathed, hating the way he stuttered but unable to help. He straightened up slowly, realizing that this was not, in fact, a giant. </p><p>(Not that he would have been surprised if Steve <i>was</i> a giant, based on everything else he’d seen so far in this damn house.)</p><p>No, Steve was just your average, run-of-the-mill, extraordinarily sexy man. He was taller than Tony by at least half a foot, not that that was hard to accomplish, and broad-shouldered. The bespoke black suit he was wearing did an excellent job of showing off his muscles. Blond bangs fell over blue eyes, which were a perfect match to the blue tie. All that, plus a charming smile, left Tony feeling like maybe someone had reached into his dreams and yanked out the perfect man.</p><p>“Come on. We can go chat in my office,” Steve said, gesturing down the hallway.</p><p>“Umm… okay,” Tony said reluctantly. He was loathe to go any deeper into the mansion, but quickly realized that his choices were limited. Cowering against the wall wasn’t going to help anyone either. He peeled himself off the wall, bent down to grab his briefcase, and followed Steve five doors up.</p><p>He wasn’t sure what to expect, but Steve’s office looked… normal. Cluttered, yes, and decorated ostentatiously, but that was hardly unusual. Tony’s eyes flicked quickly around the room, taking it all in, and he realized that Obie would’ve <i>hated</i> it. Obie was a huge fan of sleek, modern designs. The more minimal, the better. For Tony, who had been taken to task several times over a messy office, Steve’s office was actually nice.</p><p>Or at least, it was until he went to take a seat.</p><p>“Hold on! I wouldn’t think George would like it if you sat on him,” said Steve.</p><p>Tony froze. “George?” he echoed dubiously, looking at the chair. It was bright red, but it was still a chair. Right?</p><p>“George is Clint’s chameleon. We’re all very proud of him. When Nat found him, he couldn’t really change colors, but now you can hardly see him,” Steve said, as though it was a perfectly normal occurrence to have a chameleon on a chair. “Clint! I found George!”</p><p>Clint sauntered through the door less than thirty seconds later. He ignored Tony, swooping something red off the chair. As Steve took a seat behind the desk on an apparently chameleon-free chair, Clint cuddled the red thing to his chest. It didn’t look like any chameleon Tony had ever seen before, and it rapidly turned an alarming shade of purple to match Clint’s hair.</p><p>“Thanks, Uncle Steve!” Clint said. He then promptly walked around the desk and plunked himself down on Steve’s lap.</p><p>Tony almost choked.</p><p>Considering that Clint was wearing a very tiny pair of shorts and nothing else, it looked like – well, it looked like…</p><p>But then Steve groaned, smiling, and said, “If he wants money from me, he calls me ‘uncle’.”</p><p>Thank god he doesn’t call you Daddy, Tony <i>almost</i> said.</p><p>“I want a slide,” Clint declared, smiling brightly.</p><p>“A slide,” Steve said, sighing. “Now tell me, where would you put a slide?”</p><p>Clint hummed loudly. “I want to slide down the stairs. I don’t want to ride in an elevator or walk down the stairs. Oh! And it has to be a twisty slide that ends in a ball pit,” he said seriously. The chameleon crawled up onto his shoulder.</p><p>“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll ask Bruce to design it for you,” Steve aid.</p><p>“Yay! Thank you, Uncle Steve!” Clint grabbed Steve’s face and planted a huge kiss on his cheek.</p><p>In spite of the fact that Tony would’ve sworn on money that Clint wasn’t wearing lipstick, that kiss left a big purple lip mark on Steve’s cheek.</p><p>Steve just smiled. “Now go on, scamp. Go find Thor and tell him that Frigga and Odin are looking for him.”</p><p>“Okay!” Clint chirped, jumping up. He rushed out the door.</p><p>“Now,” Steve said, turning to Tony. “What can I do for you, Mr. Stark? I understand you’re about my letter.” He smiled pleasantly, somehow seeming to look completely professional with purple lipstick on his face.</p><p>If Tony got out of here in one piece, he was going to <i>kill</i> Obie for sending him here.</p><p>“Uh, yes,” Tony said, slowly sitting on the chair. He was half-expecting Steve to yell at him to not sit again, but Steve just watched him with a level of anticipation that was unnerving. Tony was used to being ignored. When he was younger, he’d loved attention and had striven to get as much of it as possible.</p><p>That was before his father saw him as competition. Before Obie. Now Tony liked being on the sidelines. If no one was paying attention to you, then you weren’t doing anything wrong.</p><p>“I was asked by Mr. Stane to get some more details from you,” Tony explained. “Unfortunately, on my way here, my car broke down.”</p><p>“Your car broke down?” Steve said, gasping as though that was the worst thing he’d ever heard. “That’s terrible! I’ll call you a mechanic right away. And of course, you must stay with us in the meantime. Can’t have a guest sleeping outside.”</p><p>“Oh… right,” Tony said slowly, who was starting to think that he’d be better off taking his chances sleeping outside.</p><p>“Nat!” Steve called out, jumping up and heading to the door. “Nat!”</p><p>Tony had no idea who ‘Nat’ was until a young woman came to the door of the office. She was petite but muscled, with fiery red hair pulled back into a French braid. Unlike Clint, she was covered from the neck down in something that looked strangely like a scuba diver’s suit. The black material clung to her every curve, and she smirked when Tony looked away with a blush.</p><p>“Natasha has been following you since you got here,” Steve said cheerfully.</p><p>“What?!” Tony said, head snapping around. His immediate thought was that she might have seen him messing around with the car.</p><p>Natasha’s cold smile did little to settle his fear.</p><p>“She’ll show you to your room,” Steve said. “I’ll look after your car.” </p><p>He was out the door before Tony could protest, leaving Tony alone with Natasha. She didn’t say a word, just kept staring at him. She didn’t even blink. Her eyes were a pale, eerie shade of green that made Tony shiver, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything or not – but then she just kept staring. And staring.</p><p>“Uh, so… uh… my room?” he squeaked out finally.</p><p>Still, she said nothing. But she did turn on one heel and stride out the door. Figuring that meant he should follow – and not wanting to be left alone in this increasingly <i>weird</i> place – Tony grabbed his briefcase and hurried after her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They did not run into any other wild animals, a fact that Tony was very thankful for as he followed Natasha through the winding corridors. She did not speak or even look at him, and she strode on as though she didn't whether he was behind her or not. He had the impression that if he fell behind, she would not hesitate to leave him. And since that was possibly the only thing more frightening than being pinned down by Natasha's icy stare, he made sure that he wasn't more than a half-step behind her until at last, she stopped.</p><p>"You can stay here," she said, gesturing to the door to their left. As though by magic, the door swung open. Still, Tony didn't move until Natasha turned to him and raised an expectant eyebrow. Then, worried she might stab him or worse if he got on her bad side, he hastily scuttled into the room.</p><p>It was larger than he had expected, easily the size of the small apartment he shared with Peter and reminded him strongly of his childhood bedroom. Yet at the same time, it didn't feel anything like the bedroom he had left behind years ago. Decorated in warm shades of gold and red, everything looked like it was designed for comfort over fashion. The king-sized bed was covered in so many pillows that Tony was pretty sure he'd be totally hidden by them if he laid down, which wasn't an unappealing thought. </p><p>"Bathroom is over there," Natasha said shortly, tipping her head towards a door on the far wall. "Kitchen is downstairs. Supper is in three hours, if you're hungry enough to join us."</p><p>"Uh, sure," Tony said, gingerly setting his briefcase down. He wondered if he'd have the chance to talk to Steve before they ate supper. No, scratch that: what he was <i>really</i> wondering was what kind of food would be served in a mansion where absolutely nothing was what it seemed. A quick glance at Natasha's face made him decide against asking: he wouldn't have believed her no matter what she told him, and it was possible that asking might provoke a very negative reaction.</p><p>"Not to worry! Angie is a marvelous cook."</p><p>"Shit!" Tony very nearly had a heart attack; he lurched backwards, clutching his chest, as a man literally came from the ceiling.</p><p>He was probably closer in height to Steve than to Tony, with the same broad shoulders. But whereas Steve was polished, this man looked untamed. His hair was long, swept up in an untidy bun that had little bits and pieces of hair sticking out all over. He was wearing a purple thong and a grey crop top that had the words 'Bodacious Butler' scrawled across the front of it in glittery pink writing. His appearance was so shocking that it took Tony a moment to realize that the man had appeared by way of a rope, which was attached to the ceiling.</p><p>"You met the missus. Great conversationalist, isn't she?" the man said casually, flipping himself upside down. His hair brushed the floor. He held himself up with only one hand and one knee twined around the rope as he added, "The best in the world, as a matter of fact! Say, love, did you see where Clint hid the ancient urn we got from Peru? I like some of the candy he keeps inside it."</p><p>"No," Natasha said shortly.</p><p>The man sighed. "Damn. I keep forgetting if he puts the green urn in the blue room or the blue urn in the green room or the blue urn in the blue room. It's so hard to remember."</p><p>Natasha folded her arms. "He would stop hiding it if you would stop stealing his clothes."</p><p>That comment provoked a smug grin. "I'd stop stealing his clothes if he would hide them better," he said, effortlessly twisting around until he was right side up and - somehow - supporting himself with only one arm, wound carelessly through the rope. It should have been impossible, or at least required a great deal of physical strength, yet he looked as casual as though he was laying down.</p><p>And then, suddenly, he turned to Tony. "Do you like candy?"</p><p>"I, uh, yes?" Tony whispered, keeping his distance.</p><p>"Excellent. I'm Bucky." He let go of the rope and landed on his feet.</p><p>The rope vanished.</p><p>Tony stared wildly at the ceiling, then at Bucky, as though sheer force of will might be enough to make the rope appear again.</p><p>Bucky seemed not to notice, turning back to Natasha. "Eh, love, Betty said she could use a hand."</p><p>Natasha nodded and strode from the room. Bucky moved to follow.</p><p>"Um," Tony said before he could stop himself.</p><p>Bucky paused, looking at him expectantly.</p><p>But Tony, realizing that there was no polite way to ask if he would actually be alone if he closed and locked the door, remained silent., so after a moment Bucky shrugged and sauntered after Natasha. Tony moved forward automatically, skirting the place where the rope had been, and gingerly put a hand on the door with the intention of shutting it. He needed a few minutes to himself. </p><p>His hand froze an inch from the knob when he heard Bucky speak again.</p><p>"So he's the one with the broken car?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Are we not supposed to mention that the part he's missing is in his bag?"</p><p>"Maybe it's his favourite car part and he likes keeping it close. Who are we to judge?"</p><p>That last speaker was a female, not Natasha, but Tony didn't care enough to find out who it was. Not when his brain was registering what they'd said.</p><p>They knew.</p><p><i>They knew</i>.</p><p>His stomach twisted as he realized that either there were video cameras everywhere or someone had been watching when he was working on the car's engine. Either way, they'd known he was here under false pretences from the very moment that he entered the house. In retrospect, he couldn't believe they'd let him in. Was it just because they wanted to know what he was doing here? Or was it because they wanted to show him how weird and crazy the house was as a subtle warning? Or... did they have another, more nefarious plot in mind? </p><p>That last possibility made Tony's hands start to shake. If it had been just him, he probably wouldn't have cared what happened to him. After spending so long underneath Obie's thumb, Tony's passion and zest for life was non-existent. But he had Peter to worry about. Peter was just a child, and Tony had to protect him. He <i>had</i> to protect him. But how?</p><p>He sank down onto the bed, realizing that he had basically two options. He could leave the house, go back to Obie, and accept whatever consequences that Obie wanted to dole out. That thought made him want to throw up because those consequences wouldn’t just impact him. It would be Peter, and maybe even Pepper and Rhodey, taking the heat for Tony’s failure.</p><p>The other option was to go talk to Steve and fess up. That wasn’t exactly appealing either, considering that Tony had entered the house under false pretences. No one around here seemed sane. There was no telling what they would do… but then again, they already had some inkling that he wasn’t here for the reasons he’d said that he was. And they hadn’t tried to kill him yet, unless you counted trying to scare him to death.</p><p>There really wasn’t a question as to what he should do, was there?</p><p>With a heavy sigh, Tony stood up and grabbed his briefcase. The room spun around him for a moment; he steadied himself against the wall. When he thought he could walk without his knees giving out, he moved over to the door and slowly opened it, half-expecting to find Bucky or worse, Natasha standing right there. But the hallway was empty. He couldn’t decide if that was better or worse. He had the feeling that if you got lost in this mansion, it might be a very long time before you found your way out…</p><p>“Mr. Stark! How are you finding your room?”</p><p>Tony jumped and flinched, spinning around to find Steve standing right behind him in a hallway that had been empty literally two seconds ago. He clutched his briefcase to his chest, wondering how the hell Steve had done that. Surely someone that tall shouldn’t be able to move so quietly?</p><p>“You seemed like you needed to talk,” Steve said, looking at him expectantly. “Shall we have dinner, and then we can chat?” </p><p>“Um… okay,” Tony said quietly, almost a whisper. Maybe they were going to poison him at dinner. It would probably be rude to ask.</p><p>Something black moved in his peripheral vision and his head snapped up. He stared at the outstretched arm, then looked up at Steve’s face. Steve smiled back at him. It was a kind smile and softened the edges of what Tony realized could be a very stern face. He hesitated for just a moment before he took Steve’s arm, gingerly wrapped his hand around Steve’s bicep.</p><p>It would be rude to say no, but honestly it felt a bit like wrapping his arm around a viper.</p><p>“Where are you from, Mr. Stark?” Steve asked pleasantly as they headed back down the hallway.</p><p>“New York. I grew up there,” Tony said, forcing his mind not to stray towards dozens of decidedly unhappy memories. Good moments had been scarce even before his parents died. After they died, there had been nothing.</p><p>“Do you like it there?” Steve asked.</p><p>“It’s… it’s okay,” Tony said carefully. “I liked it better when I was younger. It’s not the sort of place I envisioned raising a child in.”</p><p>Steve looked at him sharply. “You have a child?”</p><p>Tony blinked, then took a deep breath. Damn, he hadn’t meant to mention Peter. Something about Steve was unexpectedly relaxing, even considering where they were. It had been a very long time since Tony had let down his guard enough to speak thoughtlessly, never mind doing so in front of what was basically a complete stranger.</p><p>“Yeah, I do,” he said slowly. “A son. He’s eight.”</p><p>“What’s his name?”</p><p>“Peter.” Tony smiled slightly, unable to help it. His heart warmed at the thought of his baby boy. </p><p>“If you don’t like New York, why don’t you and your wife move?” Steve said, leading him towards the stairs. Somehow, without Tony’s notice, they’d emerged from the corridors and out onto a landing.</p><p>“I’m not married. It’s just me,” Tony replied. That wasn’t secretive information. Anyone would be able to find that out by looking him up on the internet. He deeply regretted the day that Sunset Bain had walked through the firm’s doors, but he couldn’t regret the fact that she was the reason he had Peter. And of course, she’d dumped Peter on him and taken off as soon as she found out that Tony had no access to the fabled Stark family fortune. It was the best thing she could have done, honestly.</p><p>Suddenly, he realized that he didn’t want to sit through a dinner with these people. Here was Steve making polite conversation, and all the while Tony had come here with the intention of swindling him. That wasn’t right. None of it was right. These people were weird, but they were kind. Sort of. They didn’t deserve more lies.</p><p>“Mr. Rogers, I’m sorry. I need to decline your dinner invitation,” Tony said, coming to a stop. “I’m – I’m not who you think I am.”</p><p>“You’re not Tony Stark?” Steve said, turning to look at him.</p><p>“I am, but… but I didn’t come here to talk to you about your university. Obie sent me here. Obadiah Stane. He wants your land. I’m supposed to do whatever it takes to get you to sign these contracts.” Tony gestured with his left hand, which still held his damned briefcase. “He thought I could sweet talk you into it, or something…” He swallowed, unable or maybe just unwilling to admit that Obie had strongly hinted that Tony could sleep his way into getting Steve’s signature. </p><p>“I know,” Steve said, and Tony’s head shot up. He stared at Steve in shock.</p><p>“Wh-what?” he stammered. </p><p>Steve’s smile was gentle. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Mr. Stark. Where do you think Peggy went after she quit?”</p><p>“She… oh. You know Peggy?” Tony gulped. Peggy was the co-worker who had handled all of Steve’s accounts at the firm. She’d up and quit one morning without warning, which had infuriated Obie to the point where Tony hadn’t dared to reach out and ask where Peggy was going. </p><p>“She’s working with me now,” Steve replied. “She’s told me quite a lot about you.”</p><p>“I… shit. I’m – I’m sorry. I didn’t – I shouldn’t have –” Tony ran a trembling hand through his hair, frustrated that he couldn’t put two words together. His heart was racing.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Steve said, kindly but firmly. “Only those with good intentions are allowed in here, you see. You just want what’s best for your son, don’t you?”</p><p>Tony couldn’t speak; he just nodded.</p><p>“That’s what Peggy told me, and I agree with her assessment. You see, Mr. Stark, everyone thinks of me as an eccentric old man who doesn’t know what’s going on. But I know far more than everyone thinks.” Steve’s eyes were very blue and very intent, freezing Tony to the spot. “I know about you, and about your son, and about what Stane has done to you. It’s unforgivable, all of it. So, I’m going to help you.”</p><p>Forget speaking. Tony couldn’t even think. He stared, dazed, as Steve stepped closer and gently took both of Tony’s hands in his. His hands were big, and suddenly <i>Steve</i> seemed big. Tall and unfathomable, like he was sucking up all the air in the hallway. The world seemed to shrink. Tony’s heartbeat echoed in his ears. Months of stress caught up with him all at once.</p><p>He was very, very tired.</p><p>And it turned out that Steve’s arms were very, very warm.</p><p>He passed out with Steve’s whisper running through his head.</p><p>“It will be okay… Tony.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony slept and woke and drank - water, from the taste of it, though flavored with something minty - and then slept again, even more deeply this time. He didn't wake up again until something heavy landed on top of him. A very familiar something, all bony knees and sharp elbows that somehow seemed to know exactly where the tenderest parts of his body was. He snapped awake with a shallow gasp, all the air having been driven out of his lungs by approximately sixty pounds of eight-year-old boy, and then stared in shock.</p><p>"Hi Daddy!" Peter yelled at full volume, even though he was about two inches away from Tony's face. "How much longer are you going to sleep for? Isn't it time to wake up yet? I'm bored!"</p><p>"What?" Tony said, completely confused, and then suddenly realized that this wasn't a dream. There was no dream where Peter's ill-placed elbow in his gut hurt that much. This was real. Peter was <i>here</i>... wherever he was. He lurched upwards, panicked, and nearly sent Peter rolling backwards off the bed. Tony's hand snapped out and he caught Peter by the arm just in time, saving him. Luckily, Peter thought this was hilarious and just bounced with glee, grin stretching from ear to ear.</p><p>"You've been asleep for ever!" he said in a vaguely accusing tone. "Mr. Steve kept telling me I had to let you sleep, but I said you wouldn't care if I woke you up! You didn't, right?" He looked up at Tony with the most innocent, puppy-eyed expression he could muster, and Tony had to admit that it was pretty damn convincing.</p><p>"No, of course not," he said, slightly dazed. He looked up when something moved in his peripheral vision and saw none other than Steve Rogers standing in the doorway, partially shadowed but unmistakable.</p><p>Steve.</p><p>Obie.</p><p>Of course.</p><p>His face must have changed because Peter grew worried. "Daddy? Are you sick?"</p><p>"Your daddy's just tired, Pete," Steve said, very gently. He took a step towards the bed, bringing him into the light. Gone was the bespoke black suit, replaced by a pair of tight, dark blue denim jeans and a comfortable blue sweater. Somehow, he looked a million times more attractive in casual wear than he had in the suit, which was seriously unfair.</p><p>"But you slept a long time," Peter said, his lower lip jutting out.</p><p>"Just how long did I sleep?" Tony said, wrenching his mind away from increasingly inappropriate thoughts. He was totally confused.</p><p>Steve seemed to consider the question. "You've been asleep for about twenty hours, give or take."</p><p>Tony nearly choked. "<i>Twenty</i> hours?!" he blurted out, horrified. He usually never caught more than two or three hours of sleep. Rhodey was constantly telling him that his insane schedule was going to catch up to him at some point, but there had just never been time to stop.</p><p>"You were tired," Steve said, still using that gentle tone of voice. It made Tony want to fall into his arms again and sleep for another twenty hours.</p><p>Instead, he shook his head. "What the hell happened while I was out?"</p><p>"I told you that I would help you. I don't like bullies," Steve said, and he was smiling, but there was something very cold around his eyes just then. "After you passed out, I made some calls to a few friends of mine. Obadiah Stane was arrested about -" He checked his watch, an act that was probably more for show than anything else. "About three hours ago. He's going to be brought up on a litany of charges, not the least of which is blackmail, extortion, and embezzlement. It might take a little while, but I guarantee you that he will be going to jail for a very long time."</p><p>Tony stared at him.</p><p>"Of course, that's if he makes it that far," Steve added, and this time he winked. "Bucky wasn't happy to hear about Stane. He likes bullies about as much as I do."</p><p>"You. You sent Stane to jail,” Tony said in disbelief, struggling to wrap his mind around this development. Saying it out loud didn't make it sound any less crazy. If anything, it only made him feel like he was definitely still dreaming - sharp elbows or not.</p><p>Steve inclined his head slightly. "It wasn't <i>just</i> me. I had help. Bucky. Clint. Jane. Peggy. Natasha."</p><p>"Ms. Natasha picked me up from school," Peter piped up brightly. "She's really nice."</p><p>"She is?" Tony said blankly. Somehow, that was the most unbelievable part of all of this.</p><p>"Natasha volunteered to pick Peter up to spend some time with him one on one," Steve said meaningfully. For a moment Tony didn't get what he was trying to imply, but then suddenly it snapped into place. Natasha was scary as fuck and that was when Tony had spoken to her for all of two minutes. He was pretty sure no man would come near Peter if Natasha decided she didn't want them to.</p><p>"She bought me a chocolate milkshake!" Peter said happily.</p><p>"Did she? That's great, kiddo," Tony whispered, running a trembling hand through Peter's hair. This was all so much. Too much. He didn't understand...</p><p>"Hey Pete, I heard Angie was baking cookies today. Why don't you go see if she needs a hand with the taste testing?" Steve suggested.</p><p>"Can I, Daddy?" Peter said eagerly.</p><p>"Sure," Tony said numbly. He watched Peter leap off the bed and sprint out the door before turning his gaze back to Steve. There was so much running through his mind that he didn't even know where to start. </p><p>"I hope you don't mind that we picked Peter up from school," said Steve lightly.</p><p>"I - I guess not," Tony said. "I'm surprised you were able to. His school takes security seriously." That was something that Tony had made sure of when he signed Peter up there. Too many people were like Sunset and thought that the Stark name was still attached to a veritable fortune. Tony’s first brush with kidnapping had happened at the tender age of six; he had vowed that Peter would never have to deal with that.</p><p>"Ms. Potts called and had Natasha added to the list," Steve told him.</p><p>This time, Tony put a hand to his own head. "You know Pepper?" His head was suddenly throbbing with a headache as he tried to wrap his mind around everything that he was being told. His body wasn't used to being so well-rested – even if he did feel like he could easily sleep another twelve hours - nor was it used to this much shock in such a short span of time. He felt totally bewildered by everything that was going on and it wasn't a good feeling.</p><p>Steve seemed to realize that he was perilously close to a breakdown. In the span of a few seconds, he was pressing a glass of water into Tony's hands with the softly voiced command for Tony to drink. Tony mutely obeyed, tasting more mint. It was startlingly refreshing. He drank until the glass was empty, and then Steve took the glass and set it down on the nightstand before taking Tony's hands in his own. Tony stared down at their hands. His hands looked small inside of Steve's. </p><p>"I realize this is a lot. Take your time processing it. Nothing is going to happen to you and Peter, so you don't need to rush," Steve murmured soothingly. “Both of you are welcome to stay here for as long as you like, and nothing can hurt you here.”</p><p>Tony took a couple of deep breaths and then said, in a small voice, “Was Obie really arrested?”</p><p>“Yes,” Steve said with a nod. </p><p>“I – sorry, it’s not like I think you’d lie, but that’s just really hard to believe,” Tony admitted. “Obie has a lot of friends in high places.”</p><p>“So do I,” Steve replied. “What did he do? To you, I mean.”</p><p>It was a highly personal question and Tony’s initial instinct was to refuse to answer, but he stopped himself. Rhodey and Pepper had been asking probing questions about Obie for years. Tony had always done whatever he could to avoid answering; he knew that if he told them the truth they would be outraged and then get themselves into trouble trying to do something about it. But if Steve was to be believed, then Obie was no longer part of the equation. For the first time years, Tony could speak freely if he wanted to.</p><p>And he realized that he wanted to.</p><p>“My father and Stane started their law office together before I was born. My father used to try and invent stuff, but something happened… I was never truly sure on what,” Tony began. “But whatever it was, he stopped inventing and threw himself into law. He was apparently really good at winning cases. He knew just how to present things to a jury. What he sucked at was everything behind the scenes. That’s where Obie came in.”</p><p>“It sounds like they were well-matched,” said Steve, somewhat cautiously, and Tony laughed bitterly.</p><p>“On the surface, yeah. Beneath the surface they were two assholes with huge egos, both of whom felt they needed to be on top. So they were constantly clashing, but they figured out a way to keep their shit together for the most part. They built a big name for themselves. Then I was born.”</p><p>Tony fell quiet for a moment, reflecting on his early childhood. It hadn’t been easy. Maria Stark had been much more interested in high flying parties and charity fundraisers than she had in being a mother, and no one would call Howard Stark father material. Especially when Howard started grooming Tony to take over the law firm. Tony could never win: Howard wanted him to be good enough to take over, but not so good he was a threat. That was an impossible balance to maintain.</p><p>He swallowed and said, more quietly, “I thought they wanted me to take over. But it turned out Obie didn’t want that. After my parents died, and my dad’s share of everything was left to me, Obie got me to sign some paperwork that didn’t exactly… well…” He wasn’t sure how to phrase it. But those papers had basically assured that Obie would always have a controlling influence over the company, to start with.</p><p>Anger flashed across Steve’s face. “He took advantage of you when you were grieving?”</p><p>“I guess you could put it like that. I wasn’t in any shape to look after a company anyway,” Tony admitted. “I drank a lot during that time… that’s actually how I met Peter’s mother. I was never sure if she got pregnant by accident or if she did it on purpose. She thought I had money. When she found out that I didn’t, she had the baby and left. I don’t think she ever even held him.”</p><p>“That’s –” Steve began, but Tony shook his head quickly.</p><p>“No, believe me, it was for the best that she went. She was a pretty awful person, in retrospect,” he said. “Anyway, after Peter was born that was just one more thing for Obie to hold over my head. I don’t care what he does to me. But Obie said he’d have Peter taken away if I didn’t do what he wanted.” His throat closed up, preventing him from saying anything else.</p><p>There were really no words to describe the fear that threat had prompted. Tony was a lawyer, so he was perfectly positioned to know how Obie could grease the system to make that happen. Between Obie’s political pull, money and friends in high places, Tony wouldn’t have stood a chance. It would’ve taken nothing for Obie to have him declared an unfit parent.</p><p>If Steve had looked angry before, now he was pissed. “I thought that it might be something like that, but I didn’t want to think that Stane would stoop <i>that</i> low.”</p><p>Tony shrugged, exhausted. “He saw it as a good trump card that kept me right under his thumb. And I’m sure that by the time Peter was old enough that that threat didn’t work anymore, he would come up with something else. Obie is like that.”</p><p>“Well, he won’t be threatening you anymore,” Steve promised.</p><p>“Steve…” Tony sighed. “You do realize Obie won’t actually go to prison, right? He’ll put some money into the right hands and be out by tomorrow and nothing will have changed in the end.” He felt old and tired and sad just thinking about it. If anything, this whole thing would just have upset Obie more and Tony was going to be the one to pay the price.</p><p>But Steve was shaking his head. “No, Tony. Believe me when I say that he <i>will</i> be going away. One way or the other, he will never bother you or your child again.” There was a very hard look in his eyes. Unyielding. Determined.</p><p>And somehow, Tony started to believe it.</p><p>“I hope you’re right,” he whispered. “I always thought about running away with Peter, but I was worried about my friends. I knew Obie wouldn’t hesitate to go after them.”</p><p>Steve squeezed his hands. “Based on what you say, and what I know of him, he probably would have. I’m sorry you went through that.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Tony said automatically, even though it really wasn’t. </p><p>“No, it’s not,” Steve said softly with a sad smile. “I meant what I said, and in fact I think it would be good for you and Peter to stay here for a while with us. No one can touch you here.”</p><p>“Oh, but… we can’t impose,” Tony said, a little surprised. </p><p>“You’re not imposing. This is a home for anyone who needs it, and you and Peter need it more than most,” Steve said. “Of course, I won’t keep you here if you don’t want to. I know that we’re all a bit… <i>unorthodox</i>. But you really are safe here.”</p><p>Tony was a bit skeptical about that, considering everything he had been through since he walked into the house. Then again, nothing had actually hurt him. It had all been weird and scary, yes, but that was about it. And frankly, when compared to living life under Obadiah Stane, weird and scary was nothing. So long as Peter was happy, Tony could put up with anything.</p><p>He looked at Steve. “The, uh, lion doesn’t eat little boys, right?”</p><p>Steve chuckled. “No. They don’t eat cute young men either.” He lifted one of Tony’s hands to his mouth and, much to Tony’s shock, pressed a kiss to Tony’s knuckles. He didn’t pull away immediately either, lips lingering against Tony’s skin as he looked Tony right in the eyes.</p><p>It was incredibly intimate and made Tony’s face burn hot even as his heart skipped a few beats. Steve had called him cute and was kissing his hand. <i>Steve had called him cute and was kissing his hand</i>. A ridiculously hot guy who had just saved both Tony and his child was now sitting there complimenting him and kissing his hand.  Tony might have squeaked incoherently a few times as he tried to come to terms with this.</p><p>“Let’s get you up,” Steve murmured against Tony’s skin, kissing Tony’s hand on more time before gently setting Tony’s hands back in Tony’s lap. He stood up and headed for what proved to be a walk-in closet. Tony watched him go inside in a daze.</p><p>Then reality crashed in as, outside the bedroom window, a great big purple parrot flew by. The bizarre sight was enough to dispel his daze and Tony realized just <i>what</i> Steve had said.</p><p>“Wait, what do you mean <i>they</i> don’t?! As in more than one lion?! Steve!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on <a href="https://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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